Hellraiser 6: Epilogue
by 14member
Summary: my fan epilogue to film "Hellraiser:Hellseeker"


**Name: **Hellraiser 6: Epilogue  
**Fandom: **well, it's clear from the title )))))  
**Rating:** extremely low. 

A young woman enters running to a hotel room and quickly locks the door with a key.

And although her face expresses no emotions, her eyes rush about, as if not knowing on what to focus. One thing is clear – she's stressed and literally tries the best she can to pull herself together. She takes several deep breaths to calm down, but it does not help. «Damn!» - she fails to restrain her temper, throws her bag on the floor and rushes to the table. She strikes a couple of times on a table with her fists, her face distorted with anger, but its expression softened, yielding to the tears and sorrow. The girl sits at the table and begins to cry quietly. As if feeling shy to show her tears to somebody, she covers her face with her hands. Through tears she whispers something inarticulate, too quietly and too indistinctly to catch words.  
At last she returns herself control over emotions, and decides to look  
around in her new temporal dwelling. Now her own apartment is examined  
by the police, according to their words «to find additional evidences to her  
involvement with her husband's death and recent 4 murders». Well, come on, search. She has no aim to return home anyway. There are too many Trevor's personal things, she felt sick of the thought to sleep again in the same bed, where Trevor somersaulted with his sluts.  
Suddenly, the girl turns around hastily, as if remembering something important,  
gets up, reaches for a wooden box from her bag, and sits down back at the table already. She examines the box for some time, as if trying to read on its pattern the answers for the eternal questions of humanity, well, at least for her own.  
Then she breathes out heavily and asks a question which seems even to her incredibly foolish:  
- What happens to you, when you die? Where do you leave for then?  
Kirsty Cotton understands pretty well, that there is no use in waiting for the answer, but the sound of her voice helps her to calm down. Hardly had she thought to get up and make a coffee, as the voice in her head said:  
«Do you think, we know? We don't know».  
Kirsty turned on her chair abruptly, searching for the one who could say this. But there was nobody in the hotel room besides her. At least, until that moment when she turned her eyes back to the box.  
- More bargains, Kirsty.  
Kirsty instantly held her breath, her eyes dilated with terror, and she looked around slowly, trembling with all her body.  
The only thing she managed to utter was:

- Is that you?

Her instincts required getting up and running from this monster as far as possible, but something in her mind compelled her to stay on the chair.  
- No, I'm tied up with bargains. I fulfilled the agreement, didn't I? You've  
got that you wanted. Not it's over!  
- Oh, Kirsty... he started going around the table, as a wolf round his prey, wherein his leg stepped, a room changed - light disappeared and chains came, it became extremely cold - If it was really over, you would have stopped thinking about us. You wouldn't have asked such questions…and by the way, speaking about death, thank you for the present you gave us – he turned out to be rather appetizing. Hope, you had time to enjoy their blood?  
Kirsty struggled to cope with a wish not to meet his eyes and to keep an eye on him. She pulled herself together, as if she felt cold and wanted to warm herself:  
- No. I just did what I should have done. Personal satisfaction has nothing to do with it - she answered in a reproachful tone, as if trying to convince herself in what she said, rather than him.

He sharply turned to her, leaning over the table; their faces were hardly divided  
by some centimeters. It could have seemed that he took offence, as if he offered some refined delicacy to the lady, but she threw it away without even tasting.

- You've gone too far, Kirsty. Remember, now your soul is closer to us that ever before! - he bent over closer to her and lowered his voice to the whisper:

- Well confess to me, you've got some…satisfaction, didn't you?  
She gave a start, when he moved closer to her; it was extremely unusual  
to see him so close.  
- I remember. I felt NOTHING - Kirsty hissed through her teeth.  
In her thoughts she already imagined the words which she could say to him in  
her acquittal. Anyway, she did it not without reason.  
- You DID FELT - he cut off shortly. - This, Kirsty, is one of a few things which you cannot hide from me.  
Her lower jaw began to tremble involuntarily. She understood perfectly - he  
knows! And how many phrases and reasons she could have invented to justify  
herself, she won't be able to over-persuade him. Then what was the point to hide it  
further?  
- Then why do you ask? If you can quietly read my thoughts, if you already know, WHAT I felt, you do not need to hear my verbal answer.  
- But I'm asking anyway - he stepped aside and went round the table once again,  
stopping behind Kirsty's back – You see, I want to hear an answer not for my  
pleasure, but for yours. Your ears now want to hear this confession very much.  
This seemed to Kirsty some acute torture, which he imagined for her. And she knew exactly, that now he will enjoy this interrogation.  
Kirsty even had no intention to turn around to him, why would she? He was right. And she understood it. But the words of confession stuck in her throat. To say them aloud meant to renounce from herself, renounce from her conscience,  
confirm that she no longer has the right to name herself a good person. And to stop denying, that anyone would have acted in the same way in her shoes.  
And no, far not everybody is capable to do what she did.  
- Isn't it enough that we both know the truth? - the girl whined almost pleadingly.  
Certainly, it is not.  
- No, Kirsty. If you deny yourself further, your conscience will simply burn you from within - his right arm moved on her shoulder and not strongly, bracingly squeezed it - Say it.  
It cost her so many forces to keep fighting, but at some moment she got tired of fighting. And part of her still submitted to the conscience and did not want to tell the truth, but this part became weaker.  
- Yes, I felt – she could hardly utter the first words - I did not feel guilt, did not feel the pricks of conscience. In general in those moments I forgot the meaning of these words. I remember what I felt, when I…them… Oh God, forgive me, I liked it!

As soon as these words were pronounced, a barely noticeable satisfied smile appeared on the lips of Pinhead.  
- I knew that you would not let me down, Kirsty. But I must confess I was somewhat surprised by your creative abilities - his left arm similarly moved on her shoulder – it was done extremely elegantly, so that it was possible to enjoy all their pain, for satisfaction of your own hunger.  
Kirsty understood that for the first time in her life she agreed with him. Already that circumstance that she could accept his touches compliantly showed, that  
she was fully reconciled with his domination.  
- I could not put kill them in some different way. I remember all the anger, and remember my surprise, when the first murder was accomplished - I did not think that to put to death is so easy. They thought that they are cleverer than me. Trevor, his sluts, his loathsome friend. They thought they could easily cheat me, that I knew nothing about their little plan. But they underestimated me.  
She chuckled bitterly. She underestimated herself too.  
- You are too luxurious of a gift for a mere mortal, Kirsty. Especially for that weak and brainless festering sack which once was your husband. He, all of them deserved their divine suffering…from your desirous hands.

Pinhead could acknowledge now, that Kirsty no longer belonged to this world. No, their worlds were single now… For a moment he distracted - his soul all the time was reproaching him for all sins on earth, and this dissatisfying murmur always became stronger, when Kirsty was near. Usually Pinhead simply ignored this senseless muttering, but now and here nothing should distract him, so he had to stop this muttering by force.  
He bent to her to enjoy the storm of emotions, which now was boiling inside her soul:  
- Foolish monkeys thinking they're worth creatures. They think they know about the real pleasures. But we both know that real pleasures are indistinctive from pain, does they, Kirsty? Enjoy this. Tell me more.  
Now she knew – she was foolish enough to trust Trevor, foolish to believe his words, foolish to expect that he will become better and all in their life will get right. No, he was not better than Frank, or Julia and any other person, who turned to the box for satisfaction of lasciviousness. Eventually, he betrayed her the same way as her stepmother betrayed her father.  
- He deserved such a fate - she said firmly, with a gloating smile on her face - They all deserved.  
It's over, little innocent Kirsty Cotton died, she had been slowly dying since that moment when her hands solved the riddle of the box, but her «adorable» husband finally finished her off.  
- All of them resisted, when I bound them - her voice fell down, some ominous notes appeared in it.  
- At least, his sluts. Trevor's partner turned out to be a rare coward, he was so self-confident while considered that he ruled the situation, and so pitiful he was, when he finally understood, that the rules of the game has changed - her hands involuntarily clenched and unclenched when she remembered tight knots she made - They yelled and begged, tried to justify oneself, all shifted their blame on Trevor. I remember their eyes when they understood that I wasn't going to release them. Complete fear, pain, despair, and I enjoyed it.  
Dead silence was in the room for some time. Everything seemed frozen, as if expecting something. And this waiting wasn't long:  
- Thank you, I feel much better now - Kirsty acknowledged in whisper. He was right - all that she needed was simply to vent her soul, to get rid of this heavy burden.

- I'm glad that you've finished imagining a saint of you, Kirsty. Silencing your conscience is much more difficult, than simply renouncing it, trust me, I know. – Saying this Pinhead looked at his chest for some reason as if trying to see his own soul. Malicious smile appeared on his face, as though he mocked on someone, but after his face became distracted again, and he turned his look on Kirsty:

- So, child, it is a step forward for you. As I already said, you stood almost close to the gates of hell, I can say now, that you already have one foot over it's threshold.  
- Well, let me guess, you now will make an effort to persuade me voluntarily to go with you to hell, not to waste either mine or yours time, right?  
Demon breathed out heavily, as a teacher who was tired to explain an elementary thing to the lackadaisical student:  
- Kirsty, Kirsty, have you forgotten - according to the regulations I'm not obliged to PERSUADE. But you are right - now you simply waste time - not mine, by no means, I have the whole eternity, but yours!  
- Let me think of my time myself! - Kirsty rose from her chair, as if wishing to show, that if this conversation won't stop, she'll turn around and go away. Eventual it was a self-deceit, where will she go from here? Where will she go from him? – Just leave me alone, please.

I want to start everything from the beginning. To change my work, move to the new house, to have a normal family, anyway – not all men are like Trevor! Do you understand me? I simply want to live as all people live!  
- This world won't accept you - a demon cut off shortly - you will be just another lost soul wandering round the earth, searching not knowing what. People will stand aside you, being afraid or even hate. They will treat you like a leper and you won't find not to say love, but even common language. Trust me, you will be so lonely, that your strong will sooner or late break. You'll lost, and when your illusions, which you will create with alcohol, drugs, and transitory relationships will vanish, you won't be so obstinate, accept your fate and return to your real home.  
Kirsty faded and even forgot to breathe, she was so defeated by such prediction. And only lack of air compelled her to breathe:  
- You… - «lie»? But Kirsty knew that cenobite never lied to her. – You're …«wrong»? She would have liked to believe it, but she couldn't. – for too long time he could read her like an opened book, to believe her lies. So what's then? Is he «right»?  
- Think of my words, child. Good-bye.  
As soon as the last word was pronounced, Kirsty gave a start from her chair, wishing to stop him before he returns back to hell before she gets all the answers to her own questions, and found out that she was lying in bed. She was in her hotel room - but she couldn't find anything, that could testify the presence of supernatural forces. Kirsty looked at the table, but instead of the box there stood a cup – same cup she was preparing coffee for.

«Was it a dream? Just another foolish nightmare?» - Kirsty asked herself, falling back on the pillow. Understanding that there is no use in waiting for the answer, Kirsty jumped back sharply, when felt something hard lying under a pillow. She perfectly knew what was it - and her hand pulled a small box from under the pillow. Lightning blazed outside the window, thunder was heard and was raining cats and dogs. The other day Kirsty would have laughed at it, as if it was a cheap "boo" from the horror movie, but now she didn't want to laugh. Gleaming of the box as if melted rose-colored glasses on her eyes – she felt so lonely that she wanted to hide herself under the blanket as a little girl frightened with a nightmare. But Kirsty did not do it. She understood perfectly, that it was impossible to hide from it - under a blanket, or somewhere else.

For years, these long years since she left Channard's institution, loneliness never left her - well yes, before she had Tiffani on her side, who understood and tried to help her until the day, when she got tired of Kirsty's attacks of paranoia and she politely asked Kirsty to leave her alone - at least, until she, Kirsty won't reconcile herself with the fact that these horrors remained far behind. But this time never came.  
Only now Cotton understood, that all of these 5 years of marriage were only an illusion - illusion which Kirsty created herself hoping to hide from her past. Trevor never was a good husband, Kirsty just wanted to believe he was. He became the same drug for her, as Frank for Julia. With only that difference, that Kirsty had enough brains to understand that he only used her and was ready to get rid of her when she became a hindrance.  
«Damn it, I've never noticed before that Trevor reminds Frank a bit. Indeed, a bit of tan, small bristle - and they will be almost indistinctive... Yes, I should have read Freud more attentively at the teenage age » - she smiled sadly.  
Marriage is a self-deceit. Work - only to get food. Friends - only colleagues, just somebodys for a couple of words during lunches. All colours of grey behind the window. Does she still have hope for this world?  
It is funny to acknowledge, but the only thing that warmed her soul now was the thought, that there is still THE ONE in the whole Universe who is waiting for her. The one, who never lied to her and always opened her eyes to the truth. What a wicked irony…  
In the last days of her life her mother went absolutely nuts and uttered nonsence as any dying person she breathed out prophetic words «All our family is cursed».  
- You was right, mother. You couldn't even imagine how right you were.  
Lament Configuration still gleamed in the light of a lamp, as if being proud of it's jeweler elegantness. Little wooden box is a golden key to the hiding-place for all our forbidden desires, a burrow of an unknown creature, a pathway to Wonderland, gates to hell, or maybe to the paradise – it's up for everybody to decide, where it leads to.


End file.
